((I felt like I would share a escritura assignment I did for my English Fictional escritura Class. Hope tu enjoy it. Ps. Painfully had limits to this.))
Thin rays of sun dripped into the room, squeezing through the closed and draping red curtains, gently besar the surface of all that it could touch. Slowly Adria’s eyes peeked sluggishly open to the bright warmth as it welcomed her to the new día - no, the first día of a new world. Yesterday was a world of tension, a world of fear, a world of companionship, but today, today was something entirely else. She pulled herself up from her cama as she gently rubbed her face as she turned to the light that seemed to try its hardest to illuminate the room. Gathering the strength she could from her frail and drained old body, she stood up from her cama as she slowly opened the curtains, allowing the warm afternoon sun pour into the room. For a minute, she seemed to look out the window. Somehow, while her world has changed, the sun still rose, the birds still sang, the leaves still fell and something about it all seemed to make her stop. She let off a soft sigh as she turned around, glancing as the slight imprint of a much larger man than herself laying on the other side of the cama before leaving the room as she made her way down the stairs.
Today was the first día in a while that she woke up to such a quiet world, in fact, she wasn’t sure the she could remember the last time she did. It was always a call for her to go hurry up and grab a cerveza o some drunken slurs from a man that resembled the man she loved. Still the living room reeked of cerveza and body odor, but while it would otherwise be considered gross for most, she came to find something special about it. Something about it made her feel at home.
As she began walking towards the kitchen, she paused to look at the five empty bottles on the side mesa, tabla - one of which was laying on the side in a small puddle of liquor. She should clean it up and, with it all the soiled clothes and broken glass as, for the first time, she could do so and know that they wouldn’t reappear in a week. She should make the house presentable once again, but there was a lot she should be doing. There was a lot she could do now, maybe she could even tidy up the house and have a friend over like she did back in her old youth, but then again, would anyone even respond to her call after so many years? She turned away from the bottles, deciding for the time being that they didn’t need to be cleaned as she approached the fridge.
Languidly, she raised her hand up and opened the fridge door, letting the sleeve of her sleeping vestido fall revealing her wrinkled, scarred, and purple-stained forearm. With her other hand, she pushed the bottles aside to find a few apples, all a bit old, but nothing too old o rotten to be eaten. As began to eat, she looked around the room.
Again, there was no noise other than the soft click of the clock as each hand ticked by, signifying yet another segundo passing. Time seemed to mover slowly now that he was gone. Now that the man who she loved for years was gone. Was it the love, the companionship, that made the time pass por o was it something else, perhaps fear? There was no need to grab a cerveza o quench the screams of a drunken orc, but with it, there was no need to do anything. She could stop existing, and it was questionable if anyone would even care. With him gone, was there really any purpose for her to wake up? She glanced back over at the bottles as she contemplated smashing it against the floor as if the noise o the imminent risk of glass spread on the floor would give her a sense of duty o reason to do something, but as she contemplated, her sense of apathy overcame her.
It shouldn’t be like this.
For many years, she had dreamed of the día that her world would turn back to silent peace and her efforts to keep the house clean wouldn’t be some futile dream of hers, but now that she was there, she felt nothing. She felt no joy nor sorrow. No freedom nor captivity. She felt nothing. For many years, she had dado up so many of her dreams and her life to fight against the life she was put into. For many years, she denied friendships and outings, gave up hobbies, and served to take care of him and now she was allowed to be free, but now it was probably too late. She was a caged bird with an open gate in front of her, but through the years had forgotten how to fly.
Her eyes carried over the large aquarium that she once put effort into keeping. Many years ago, a variety of pescado called that tank their home, but now it was dark and empty with small fragments of its glass broken out of it. She loved those fish. For hours and hours she worked towards giving them the inicial they loved and, from time to time, they gave her some hope and a distraction from the way things were. A small smile seemed to creep up from a previously deadpan face. Maybe that was something she could do once again.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a soft buzz rattled on the mesa, tabla as her phone lit up. She reached for the phone to see what came up and plastered on the screen surrounded in the green text bubble read a message from her old best friend Susan. It read: “Hey Adria, I heard what happened. Do tu want to talk about it over some tea?”
Adria paused as she looked at the text. Maybe she wasn’t forgotten. Maybe her wings still worked. Maybe, just maybe, the world would continue just as it always had. Gently she placed the manzana, apple back down on the mesa, tabla as she began to type.
“I would amor to.”